My month in a nutshell

Okay. I have to admit that my blog is dead. Deader than the Darth Vader trapped inside the exploding Death Star. Excuse my Star Wars analogy. But somehow, deader than a doornail is so cliched.

ANYWAYS...

Right now, I shall try my best to try and resurrect this blog. It will be tough because I think I have forgotten how to blog. I forget things so easily now. I am getting old.
My readers depend on it. They need to read the nonsense I write here, to meet their quota of nonsense for the day.
My Nuffnang account depends on it. Money is money. And Nuffnang gives money.
Heck, I depend on it. My fingers have been itching to blog, my brain has been giving me so many ideas. And somehow, what I lack is the time to blog.

Y'see, since my last post which was written close to a month ago, I have been involved in so many activities. I have experienced so many new things, met so many new people, done so many things which I would have never ever imagined myself doing. I shall try my best to give a shortened account of my whole month away from my blog.

Right after my last post, I got a job as a sales promoter for photo frames at a convocation for a university. It's a rather long job title; I'd prefer CEO any day. It was the first time I got a job. Part time. I had no previous working experience, no knowledge of sales and absolutely no idea why I said yes to the job. To be honest, my idea of hard work meant lifting up the remote control and changing the channels on my TV.
So there I was, a newbie in the part time scene. Everyone looked so matured, so pro and so confident in their abilities to sell. Apparently, photo frames are considered hardcore sales. The word 'hardcore' brings WWE wrestling to mind. And in a way, it was like wrestling. You had to wrestle with the customers, persuade them and finally, finish them off.
And through all this, I was scared. Terrified. Haunted. Spooked.


My workstation.

It was scary just seeing how all the other sales promoters were closing sales while I was still stuttering to every customer and generally freaking them out. And the first day had me really harrowed out. I was considering giving up. But I met a group of great colleagues and good friends who taught me the ropes of selling. And suddenly, I was on a roll. I got the sales in, I reached the targets. And I didn't get myself sacked! Without my sales team helping me every now and then, I would have been fried fish. (a.k.a sacked)

Sales is a crazy thing. You get to meet all kinds of people; some are nice, some are mean, some are skeptical, some are really honest. And learning how to deal with all the different kinds of personalities is a real experience for me. I had only previously dealt with people my age, who share the same interests and thoughts. But doing this job, I got to meet a grouchy old man, a skeptical family, a pretty girl who was really, really greedy...just to name a few.


My workstation.

And the worst thing is that I had to speak in all the languages I knew. Most customers don't speak English. They prefer Malay, Mandarin, Cantonese, Tamil, French, German, anything but English. It's crazy sometimes. I would be speaking Mandarin for the Chinese customers and then get tongue-tied when my next customer turns out to be a Malay. Switching languages midway is not what I am used to. I even switched to Malay halfway while explaining in Mandarin. And you know how my spoken Malay is sometimes. Or my spoken Mandarin, which is a total horror story.

My sales team is called the S.I Team. Stands for something German I think.



We have collectively forged a friendship so deep that even the word deep cannot describe it properly. And our total sales is through the roof. Per person, we can hit the target almost everyday. That's RM 3500 if you're curious to know. Not only do we hit the target, we surpass it. Every day, we look at the sales target and laugh right at its face. In the future, any boss who wants to hire us, you will not regret it. We'll rake in the sales and you can do a Scrooge McDuck and literally swim in cash. And our sales team did so many things together. For example, we went to the longest pasar malam in Malaysia, the Taman Connought pasar malam. Believe it or not, it was the first time I had been to that pasar malam, even though I have stayed in KL for all my life. We didn't have dinner that night, which was also a first for me. Instead, we did like the pasar malam folk did. We ate our way through the whole pasar malam. And I saw(read: smelled) something which made me want to puke out everything I had just eaten. Stinky tofu.
Stinky tofu is like my kryptonite. It puts together 2 of the things I hate the most; tofu and stinky and mashes them up into a disgusting piece of...of...dare I say it...poop. And one of my friends, Jeslyn ate the stuff like how I would eat a piece of bread. She was literally stuffing herself with the stuff. She was freaking immune to the smell and the taste and the texture.
Here's how stinky tofu is like to me: Smells like horse dung mixed with chicken dung mixed with sheep dung. Tastes like a hard, creamy durian. With all the above smells.
So all of us were staring in wide eyed, open-mouthed, finger pinching nose wonder as she gobbled it all up like Christmas pie. At that point of time, I was willing to pay her to just get that stuff away from me.

Within all this, I was left home alone for 3 days, with no one but my grandma for company. It was GREAT!

So after working for 5 tiring days, I rested for a few days before returning to help with the VBS. Now, I am a proud graduate of BBC's VBS. I graduated in 2007 and never returned.


The class I graduated from. And my teacher too.

But this year, I decided that going back to the VBS as a helper was something worth doing. I mean, when I was still a regular student, everything was so fun, so simple. I remembered that the helpers were really lucky, because they got the better portions of food. Now that I am a helper, how much worse can it get?


This is the dinosaur I drew and coloured by the way. I know what you're thinking.

And boy was I wrong. First thing to hit me was the kids. I thought they would all be sweet little angels, sitting quietly and listening to the Bible stories. And they actually were...for the first 10 minutes or so. Then suddenly, they all became buck wild and crazy. In the span of 3 minutes, there were 3 crying kids.


Pictured: Me with 3 of the kids who cried.

After consoling them, a few more kids were fighting among themselves. And after getting them all ready for the games time, I was made into a living balloon boy by none other than the kids who so gleefully tied balloons to my hair and every part of my body.


Pictured: The real balloon boy.

But at least lunch was good.

For the final day's outing, we went to High 5 Bread Town, which is also known as the-place-which-smells-constantly-like-bread. I mean, everywhere I looked was bread. The history of bread, the different kinds of bread, bread with butter, bread with jam...I was nearly insane. And lunch turned out to be kaya toast. I pretty much died right there.



And so ends my story of the month. Basically everything I did this whole past month.

Oh wait! I almost forgot about the one single crazy day with Nicole which really drove me past the point of insanity. I mean, after all that I have blogged about girls and how they are used to being all quiet and emo and all...one afternoon with Nicole was all it took to drastically alter my entire perception of them.
I don't want to step on anyone's toes, and especially not on Nicole's toes because who knows what she will do to me the next time she sees me. But I have to say this.
She is definitely crazy.
She gets crazy when looking at clothes because she thinks window shopping is a waste of time. 'Why window shop when you can just buy it?'
She gets crazy at Krispy Kreme.
'KRISPY KREME! K-R-I-S-P-Y-K-R-E-M-E!'
She gets crazy when she's tired.
'I wanna sleep in McD.'
She gets crazy when faced with fries in McD.
'*Crazy laughter* I took too much tomato sauce. OOPS! It's CHILLI! *more crazy laughter*'
She gets crazy with salt.
'I'mma going to eat this salt. *pours salt on her tongue* Yum...Blehhhh'
Is it so difficult to get crazy when you're with Nicole?

Now ends my story of the month.

Don't worry, it won't become a monthly routine. I promise you that. If I break my promise, I shall choke down some stinky tofu.

Cheerios.

P.S: I was just kidding about that stinky tofu promise. You don't want me to die so soon, do you?

2012 causes temporary brain meltdown

Imagine this scenario. You're walking in a shopping mall, alone or with friends. (it doesn't matter) And suddenly, this really familiar person walks past you. He/she is not a celebrity, politician or a celebrated criminal in the news. You are about to walk up to him to greet him, and you raise your hand in greeting...before you realize that you have forgotten his/her name.

Awkward? This might have happened to many of us in the past. Movies and books show whole scenes or chapters on this very situation. This human error invokes laughter in everyone of us. So I'm not blaming you for laughing at me now. Heck, I'm laughing at myself now.

But the above situation is mild compared to what I went through today. There is no manner of words which can fully comprehend the stupidity of what I have done. The sheer audacity of my actions can boggle every mind in Harvard.

Here's what happened.

I called my piano teacher just now to change the time of my piano class tomorrow. Don't ask why because it is not relevant to this story. Oh, I might also mention that I was driving at the time and the sky was dark and it was raining heavily. And I was also quite awestruck with the movie 2012 which I had just finished watching. So anyways, after a few rings, her daughter picked up the phone.

Teacher's Daughter: Hello?
Me: Hello. I'm looking for...(pause)
Teacher's Daughter: Looking for?
Me: Errrr...Um....Mrs........(longer pause)
Teacher's Daughter: Who?
Me: Errrr.......I'm looking for....THE PIANO TEACHER!
Teacher's Daughter: Um...she's not in now. Can I get her to call you back?

Yes, this is humorous now. But it sure as heck wasn't at the time. I have no idea why my mind just froze. Froze harder than the Artic icicles. Froze like how my old computer used to. I could still think, but my mind was only saying 'Oh shit, oh shit.' It was by sheer willpower that I did not repeat those words into the phone.
I mean, think about it for a second. A sudden lapse of memory, which proves that my brain is either getting old, or some of my internal memory have been wiped out. Trying my hardest not to go into computer territory, my mind simply shut down.
I couldn't remember my own piano teacher's name! I should be given some kind of award for that...or a slap. It wasn't like I hadn't seen my piano teacher for years. I just went for class last week.
I think.

So my mind rebooted itself after a few seconds. I do admit that it was pretty dangerous. I might have forgotten that I was driving a car or even worse forgotten how to drive. For example, I might have pressed the accelerator down fully, thinking that it was the freaking brakes. Or I might have forgotten that I need to move the steering wheel. Both situations which would have sent me plunging into other cars, creating a fiery fireball of doom.

I should definitely stop watching epic disaster movies before driving.

Cheerios.

P.S: Did I mention that the sky was raining fireballs? Like huge chunks of lava-encrusted rocks. Scary.

Asian Calvin. Just look at the little guy!

This kid has gotten my full respect after this brilliant collage.

And please stop laughing hysterically at the screen. Your colleagues/friends/family/strangers in Starbucks/strangers in Coffee Bean/strangers wherever there is WiFi is looking at you.
And yes, I know things...

Cheerios.

Grand unveiling of a new beginning

To coincide with the grand unveiling of a more matured blog, I have decided to blog about something more matured. Well, something significantly more matured than previous posts to be exact. And what better way to show my big step into maturity than with a post about the fairer sex.

Many of you might have read my previous posts, somewhere along the line and just bristled. The word 'sexist' is on the tip of your tongue. But I assure you, and all the women in the world that I am not sexist. I merely make fun of you and therefore you may not pour out your wrathful vengeance on me in the comments section.

We men can never live without women. I willingly admit this fact, so stop smirking ladies. We men, can list out 101 reasons why women would ruin our lives, but deep down in our hearts, we know that we're lying. I'm saying this because I want to get some of the more trivial things out of the way before launching out an attack. Now that we've got that settled, let's move on to the real deal.

Women are men's biggest headaches. A woman is so unpredictable, she makes the world's share market look like stupid. Men, in all their wisdom and Nobel Prizes, will never be able to understand women at all. Heck, I think even a super computer cannot fully understand the thing we call the woman's mind. Men try their hardest, reading up on all the woman's needs and wants. Men go all out to fully scope out the woman's mind. But it is all futile. In fact, some men prefer the shortcut.
The easiest way for men to understand women is to understand the fact that we will never understand them.

Below is some of the most confusing things about women that have drove countless men down the road not taken. (it's more like a guide, actually)

1. Selective memory
Women are like super computers. Not only do they remember their own birthdays and anniversaries, they take the effort to remember everyone else's birthdays and anniversaries too. And if that's not enough, they can remember every single argument they ever had in their lives, down to every word.
Example: Sally can remember the grandma who lives 2 blocks down the street who annoyed her by talking too loudly on the 24th of November 1973 at 12.34 p.m. She distinctly remembered that the old lady was talking about her cat, Coco who ate too much and pooped in the house, specifically on the couch. But then again, she's not really sure.
Ask them about what they had for breakfast and they would most probably shrug their shoulders and say, 'Dunno. Forgot d.'

2. Self-conscious
Women are worried about 2 things in life. This can be summed up in 2 sentences.
i. 'Do I look old?' and,
ii. 'Do I look fat?'
So far, men who have answered these questions have all died a horrible death, presumably by a huge tongue lashing. I'm not really sure because I have not met a guy who has lived through these questions of death.
Tell your lady friend that she's not fat, she'll look at her waist and say, 'Don't lie lah! I'm humongous!'
Agree with your lady friend that she's fat, she'll probably stare a hole into your head.
Don't answer, she'll say your keeping silent and make her own assumptions.
I have seen women who have the body of Megan Fox claim to be fat. And I have seen women who are, um, well proportioned claim to be the next Angelina Jolie. This is a problem. Some women are self conscious, some not so. Unluckily for us men, both aren't really good alternatives.

3. Confused? Or confused?
Have you ever been in a situation where your girlfriend is shopping for something? Let's say clothes, for example. She tries on a hundred clothes before finally buying the first one she tried. Women don't know what they want. Or maybe they do, but they are not sure. Or maybe it's a global conspiracy to make all men wait outside the dressing rooms for hours. Whichever suits you best.
Women also don't know what to do with their boyfriends. If the guy SMSes her every hour, she'll say that he's too clingy and that 'we need our breathing space'. But, if the poor guy doesn't SMS her for a few hours, she'll say that the boyfriend is being distant and cold. The poor guy finally decides that it's too much of a hassle to decide when to text and when not to text and throws away his phone in desperation.
Okay, that hasn't happened yet but soon, our seas will be polluted with mobile phones. Mark my words.

4. PMS
Ah! PMS...the bane of every known society. This is what makes a woman's mood turn, spin around and do the waltz. One second she can be smiling at you sweetly, and the next she'll be replaced by Miss Hyde; the sarcastic, emo and moody creature which haunts your nightmares. She'll snap at you like a crocodile, aiming at every little mistake you make. And men have no way of solving the PMS puzzle. It's like the body injects itself with Dr. Jekyll's serum, over and over and over again.
Guys will be wondering why their girlfriends suddenly started talking like the LOLcats WHILE aiming and sniping off every single mistake said, written or typed.
PMS, PMS...oh how we despise thee!

There's more but since I'm being more matured, I'll stop here.

Actually, I'd rather not drown in the sea of estrogen. I know it's going to be inevitable.

Cheerios.

Misguided attempt

In a misguided attempt to be a more matured blogger, I have changed (read: simplified) my layout.

Again, I claim this to be a misguided attempt, so please leave a comment.

Cheerios.

Girlfriend=Bat?

I think my girlfriend is secretly a bat.

And before you pass me off as a drunken, retarded, high-on-crystal-meth...well, retard, I would like to also point out that my statement is not without brilliant logic behind it. Throughout our 1 year plus relationship, I have noted many similarities of my girlfriend...and to put it frankly, to bats. We may well have the next Batgirl on the loose.


Though if you look at it closely...it's not that bad after all...

I have compiled a short little list about why I think my girlfriend is a secretly a bat. Or a batgirl. Or whatever.

1. She is nocturnal.
Bats are nocturnal, my girlfriend is nocturnal. Point said, point taken. If you need more proof, read on...if you dare!
The most memorable moment of batness my girlfriend showed was during Euro '08. As you may have already known, Euro '08 is famous for having all its biggest games at the stupidest times. 3.30am for Italy vs Spain?! But come on, it's freaking ITALY vs SPAIN! I'd rather have panda eyes than miss that match. I stayed up to watch the match, until nearly 6am. With lots and lots of coffee and instant noodles to keep me awake.
Guess who stayed up with me?
Girls and football don't mix well. I'm speaking by experience. It is more likely for the moon to turn into cheese than to have Liz staying up for Italy vs Spain. So the only reason my girlfriend stayed up with me was either because she has insomnia, which is highly unlikely OR she's a nocturnal being who loves the night and loathes the light. I'm leaning toward the latter.
Or maybe she just wanted to keep me company.
OH! She doesn't need coffee to stay awake either. It's like her blood IS coffee.

2. She is clumsy in broad daylight.
The sentence speaks volumes for itself. As people who know my girlfriend may have found out; after seeing her drop plates, spoons and cups, knocking into furniture, banging her knee on the open cupboard door, etc...my girlfriend is clumsy. Without giving anymore examples which may or may not lead to my subsequent death, I venture to say that my girlfriend is afraid of the light. While many of us cannot do anything without light; my grandma floods the house with light just because she wants to walk around, my girlfriend finds the light to be troublesome. It makes her disoriented, or so she claims.
Say, that reminds me of bats....doesn't it? Bats are super disoriented in the light. Mainly because they can't really see but that's beside the point.

3. She is perfectly at ease in the dark.
My girlfriend once told me she loves the dark. Not like 'Ooh, I love the dark because it makes me sleepy.' My girlfriend believes in 'Ooh, dark is good. Light is bad.'
According to my girlfriend, she is able to wash dishes in the dark and navigate around her house without the aid of light. And these are just the tip of the massive iceberg of things she can do in the dark. I mean, if you can freaking wash dishes in the dark, what can you NOT do?
But seriously, I am rather impressed by my girlfriend's ability. She can do all sorts of things in the dark, so imagine the huge amount saved for electricity.
And unless I am very much mistaken, bats have an uncanny ability to navigate in the dark too. Something about the ultrasonic waves (we learned it in Physics, remember?) that they emit to 'see' in the dark. I don't know whether they can wash dishes or not, but I know they can catch a moving insect without batting an eyelid. Wait, they don't have eyelids...oh never mind.
What? You're saying my girlfriend doesn't use ultrasonic waves? Well...

4. She has a rather...um...uniquely cute voice.
Many of you don't know what my girlfriend sounds like. Because, you know, pictures in Facebook don't talk. I can't really describe it here properly without the fiery anger of my girlfriend raining down on me the next time we meet. So...let me sum it up in my dad's own words.
'You have a...uh...weird voice.'
Remember that this was the first time he met her face to face. And first impressions aren't usually that accurate. I have to admit, my girlfriend has a very cute and unique voice. AND it's nothing like Donald Duck, HECK NO! Not Mickey Mouse either because he sounds plain...weird. Somehow. She sounds more like...(insert any cute thing you know here). That's what she sounds like. A little on the high pitchy side, but not overdone. Just perfect.
Oh, bats have high squeaky voices which are actually ultrasonic waves. These waves reflect off objects and gives them a high-def picture of their surroundings. See? Proves I listened in that Physics class!
Wait...I'm not saying that my girlfriend's voice is high pitched...I'm just saying...OH never mind. Next point please, before this gets more awkward.

5. She sleeps a lot in the day.
AH! The pinnacle of every person's success lies in his or her ability to grab a power nap. I'm not saying you should sleep when you're in a meeting or when you're with you're clients. Take a nap whenever you are free for 15 minutes.
Here's how napping relates to our topic here. My girlfriend loves napping. See, we've already pointed out the fact that she's nocturnal, right? So when does she charge her batteries? Obviously not at night because her blood runs with 3-in-1 Nescafe. So it's these little naps in the day which help relieve her of her stress. Everyone has a sleep quota. You need to fulfill that sleep quota, even if it means taking a nap in the evening before dinner.
Bats sleep a lot in the day. Something to do with them being sensitive to light. Again, I'm not saying that Liz is sensitive to light. Or that she loves to sleep in the day. You may have already discovered that from point 2 onwards.

I therefore conclude that my girlfriend may or may not be a bat. Though all signs point to yes, I shall leave myself with the benefit of a doubt.
The real mystery lies in whether she may or may not maim me and throw my body to the sharks after she reads this post. As the Bard said, Hell hath no fury than a woman scorned. And boy do I hope she's not scorned. I don't want to end up in a woman's Hell fury.


'Do not scorn me or you shall die a painful death.'

Best of luck to me for surviving tomorrow. Or the day after tomorrow. Or whatever.

Cheerios.

A Facebook addict I am not

'Stop being on the computer and Facebooking.' My mom nagged. 'You're becoming a Facebook addict.'

I cringed at her harsh words. I know I may have spent a little too much time on Facebook but to call me an addict was overkill. Heck, Facebook addicts are:

1. Those people who sit in front of the computer all day, simply refreshing the page with religious fervor again and again looking for new updates.
Example: 'Refresh. F5. F5. F5. F5. F5. F5. OOH! One new update!'
Letty Chia completed the quiz 'What retard should you be' and got the result 'A super retard...duh.' 1 minute ago.
2. Those same people with bloodshot eyes who get high on the fact that they have 1 new notification.
ONE NEW FREAKING NOTIFICATION! AT LAST! HUHUHU. Deep breaths...HUHU. Relax. Don't get too excited...HUHU. *click* OMGGGGGGGGGGGG!
Boo! Retard, what are you going to wear this Halloween? Tell your family! 2 seconds ago.
3. Those people who have a status update at the ungodly hour of 3 a.m in the morning.
Jane Doe wants to pee real bad but decided to switch on her computer first and update before peeing.lmao! at 3.34 a.m.
4. Now with Facebook mobile, Facebook addicts can even Facebook on the move. An example of this retarded action:
John Doe is walking around aimlessly...WooTs! xD rofl. Lmao! 2 minutes ago
1 comment
Jane Doe lolz. can i join u? i'm bored doing nothing here! 10 seconds ago
5. Oh, and did I mention Facebook addicts are capable of unlimited status updates? I correct myself. Unlimited mundane, stupid and I-don't-need-to-know-your-underwear-colour status updates.
Moo-Moo is lmao! 5 minutes ago
Moo-Moo wants cookies...C-O-O-K-I-E-S! 4 minutes ago
Moo-Moo rotflmao. like seriously! 3 minutes ago
Moo-Moo MOOOOOOOOOOOOMOOOOOOO! hehehe... 3 minutes ago
Moo-Moo is going to sleep now. Nitez! 2 minutes ago
1 comment
Choo-Choo At long freaking last! Go already! 2 seconds ago.
6. Those people who play all the Facebook games ever invented. Oh, and those stupid quizzes and tests too. And by all, I mean everything on the list.
Bassman is playing Crazy Taxi and got a new highscore of 15402. Click here to challenge him.
Bassman took the 'who is your future gf/bf?' quiz and got the result, 'Mary Jane(Spiderman's chick)
Bassman needs cash for Friends for Sale. I'll get $5,000,000 for FREE today if I can get 5 friends to help. All you have to do is click, please help me!
Bassman opened a Fortune Cookie and his fortune was:
You will waste your time today opening a fake Fortune Cookie.
Bassman is 20% lucky today.
Bassman got promoted to Level 267 in Mafia Wars and is celebrating by offering a special bonus to their friends for a limited time!
Bassman is wondering why he's spending so much time on Facebook.

Wait...now it's beginning to sound eerily similar to me...

What am I saying?! I am not a Facebook addict! I repeat, I am NOT!
Nope...nosireeno! No way. To suggest such a thing is to actually an insult to my very intellect. So to prove my point, I decided to take the 'No Facebook for a week' test. Those addicts will die. But I shall prevail! I began the test in high spirits. I was so certain that a Facebook-less world was way more simpler. I was so sure of my convictions that I actually laughed at the simplicity of it all.

The first minute was pretty normal. I went to www.soccernet.com to see the latest scores in football. LIVERPOOL SUCKS LIKE SERIOUSLY! I had the urge to go onto Facebook and just diss those Liverpool fans. I typed in the web address for Facebook and was halfway signing in before I finally realized the error of my ways. I smiled to myself and closed the tab. That was a pretty nasty mind trick played on me by Facebook.

The second minute was unexpected. I found myself wondering how my girlfriend was. Since she was in Facebook, I decided to go see whether she had updated her profile or not. So again, I opened the Facebook page and typed in my email address and half of my password. Then, it struck me that I was in Facebook. Redfaced, I quickly closed the tab again. And turned on some music. That would take my mind off Facebook.

Suddenly, I got an email from Facebook. That would mean that someone commented on my picture, or someone wanted to add me as a friend or something not related to the stupid quizzes. This time I opened up the Facebook page, typed in my email and my password and was about to press Enter when I snapped back to reality. My finger hovered tantalizingly over the Enter key. Finally, I slowly and unwillingly withdrew the my finger. I decided that the temptation was too great with the computer on. So I shut down my computer.

I flopped onto my bed and started to read a book. Reading had become yesterday's news since the Internet popped up. Halfway through my book, I got a message on my handphone. Or rather, my Facebook profile updates sent me a message, begging me to go check them out. Actually, I think I was hallucinating at this point. Disgusted, I threw my phone somewhere and continued reading.

But the words in the page seemed to spell out the word Facebook. It was horrible. It was like a twisted game of anagrams where every word seemed to turn out into 'Facebook'. Try it the next time you read. Or when you're deprived of Facebook.

And so here I am, blogging about the terrors of Facebook.

OOH! I just got a message from Facebook again! I need to go check it out now! HEHE! I wonder who it is!? Or what it is?! Or whatever! I need to update my status, I need to add friends, I need to FACEBOOK! FACEBOOK, HERE I COME! OOH! AN UPDATE!!! HUHUHUHUHU! DEEP BREATHS, RELAX, RELAX. RAWRRRRR! WAHAHAHAHAHA! XD ROFLMAO!

Note: The writer of this post is currently experiencing spasms and is jumping around the house with his notebook in his hand. He is laughing maniacally and attempting to update his status at the same time. While such an act is dangerous, we shall not attempt to violate his rights as a Facebook user. We need to support him and therefore, we need to end this post for him.
Sincerely,
The Facebook Team

Cheerios.

Ass-umptions

Assumptions are the mother of all screw-ups.

While the above sentence is a milder version of one of my friend's most famous quote to date, it still manages to portray the meaning. I'm not going to say which friend because of 2 things. One, he's going to be so publicly humiliated that he will have to wear a paperbag over his head every time he wants to go out. Two, I assume he will hunt me down, with or without paperbag, and kill me, Rambo-style.

I know he's not going to do that, of course. But by assuming he's going to do that, I put myself in a position of fear. I start to ask myself, 'what if he's hiding under my bed with a machete?' So much so that I dread going to sleep, for fear of him actually being there under my bed, ready to hack me into a thousand little pieces.
In making assumptions, the parasite called 'what if' appears. This parasite causes you to think a lot, which should be a good thing. Until of course, that thought of yours becomes firmly rooted in your mind and you finally cannot stop thinking about it. And there is a saying which goes, 'If you think about something too much, it will happen.'
To most of you, it is merely an old wives' tale, stemming from women who are having a slow gossip day. But science has a proven experiment for this. It's called the placebo cure. Yes, healing is all in the mind. The mind can cure you of anything, if only you're given the proper nudging. So, scientifically, everyone can cure themselves of cancer. Though it is all bull since only a handful of people are cured.
But I digress.

Now, taking the above example of my friend hacking me into pieces, I shall demonstrate.
I post this blogpost up and my friend reads it. He automatically knows that he is the person. So he sends me an SMS which goes like, 'Woi! Bugger. U blog about me izzit? Later I belasah u then u know.' So now, I begin to think up scenario after scenario after scenario. Most of these scenarios are from movies so the ideas are endless. How will he find me, how will he kill me and so on. Until there comes a point that I will see every living human being is my friend in disguise. Every alley has my friend in it. Every restaurant I go into will have poison in my food. (I never said Hollywood movies were good brain fodder). I will shy away from people. I'm afraid to sleep. And I self-destruct. Slowly. And oh so agonizingly.

But sadly, a lot of people assume things. (Yes, you paparazzi dogs, I'm looking straight at you and your cameras...) Assumption has killed relationships, wrecked careers, destroyed families, brought down governments...the list is endless. I'm not claiming to be above this whole assuming thing. To assume is human, and to gossip about your assumption is natural. I mean, how many times has a compromising picture come up in the papers and people start assuming the worst. For example, look at this picture below.



See what the man is doing? Now try to guess what he is doing. First thing that comes into your mind.

If you're going 'WTF! That guy is so totally peeing in public!', I understand how you feel. That was practically my first reaction. Or second, depending whether or not you consider laughing maniacally to be a reaction. Looking at this picture, this man has got serious issues.

But if you were there, or if the picture was in another angle, you'd see that he was just filling up a bucket of water. Yes, his posing and everything LOOKS like he is peeing in public. But that's what you assumed. Assumption is based on what you see at first look, and not by actually finding out the real reason behind it.

When I was young, my parents forbade me to watch people playing mahjong. I was not allowed to watch card games either. So basically, all my Chinese New Years were spent eating all the cookies and biscuits. I remember asking my dad why I couldn't just watch my aunts and uncles gambling. And he said one thing I will never forget.
'Because people will look at you and they will see that you are interested in gambling. Your testimony will be smeared.' He used simpler words though. Shortened, 'People assume you like to gamble.'
See, I never played cards or mahjong throughout my young life, based on what my dad said. Heck, I didn't even touch playing cards because playing cards = gambling. Or that's what my mom thought. My mom assumes that playing cards are the reason people gamble. What she didn't know is that when people get desperate, even UNO cards can be used to gamble. (I've seen it, and it's pretty complex) In fact, the same friend as stated above used the back of a writing pad to make a miniature deck of cards. Check this link to see it. http://leonhart90.blogspot.com/2009/06/do-you-fancy-game-of-cards-poker-to-be.html

Assumptions are deadly. As deadly as the Swine Flu. Or Cancer. Or whatever. Seeing all the things that assumptions can do will most certainly spoil your mood for another day.

Some examples of classic assumption below:

1. Girl walks into the hotel her boyfriend is staying in.
Natural assumption: Naughty couple! Going to do 'that thing'.
Actual fact: Going for a lovely dinner at the hotel's cafe.
2. Kid holding an empty cigarette box.
Natural assumption: WALAO! You finished the whole box of cigarettes!?
Actual fact: Picking up litter from the floor.
3. Lady with a bigger than usual stomach.
Natural assumption: Congratulations! How many months?
Actual fact: She's just fat.
4. A group of teens partying.
Natural assumption: Surely will party until siao siao one I tell you! Alcohol, drugs, sex...
Actual fact: Farewell party for a friend going to the States.
5. Man finds best friend at his home, chatting with his wife.
Natural assumption: INFIDEL! ADULTERER!
Actual fact: Came over to return some documents and an invitation to dinner.

There is a reason they call it ASSumption. Assumption is indeed the mother of all screw-ups.

Cheerios.

And the award for the worst day ever does to....

I have had my share of bad days. But last Wednesday, or was it Thursday really beat the stuffing of all the other bad days. It was so bad that I'd eat smelly tofu dipped in beancurd sauce, sprinkled with onion and garlic and tofu bits and bittergourd chopped up finely PLUS durian dodol and completed with a helping of tau fu fa just to make sure I don't go through it again.

Recounting it here will make it worse, but I'm willing to risk it.

Note to my loved ones: If I should go insane trying to recall all the events of that horrible day, kill me immediately. Lest I become zombified and come back for your brains.

So starting off the day was the case of a dead dog. Or rather, with me being the catalyst for the causation of a dead dog. Now I'll just start from the beginning.
I was driving in the heavy rain through the highway to fetch my brother from school. Since it's raining and all, I couldn't really drive fast. So at around 130km/h I was crawling my way on the fast lane, which is the utmost right lane. Suddenly *cue for exciting music* a dog ran out from the side of the road. I imagine it was screaming(or barking or whatever) in the rain.

'I want to end it all! Don't try and stop me. I'm going to do it! This world is so meaningless. I rue my very existence. Here I am, in the middle of a busy highway with cars zooming along. How to I end it all? OH, I don't even know how to commit suicide! Someone please help-Ooh! There's something shiny in the middle of the road. I have to go get it. I have finally found my reason to live. I'm coming, my precio-' BANG!

Before you go around telling me that I am a sinner and that I should spend the rest of my lifetime being a vegetarian, I have to say this in my defense. I did not run into the dog. Nosiree no! It's more like the dog ran into my bumper and killed itself. So therefore, I am classifying this case as suicide. Case closed.
FINE! Yes, I admit. I killed the dog. But it was an accident. Plus, it was raining so heavily. If I had swerved to avoid hitting the dog, I would have died instead. So which one would it be? Me or the dog?
Oh, and if there are any SPCA people reading this, don't come and force me into taking care of the animals. I'll start eating veggies for the rest of my life.

Right after breaking one of the Ten Commandments, my day took a turn for the worst. My girlfriend, who coincidentally has no more credit in her phone decided to use her mom's phone to SMS me. She usually deletes the messages right after we stop SMSing but Fate had other ideas. Maybe it was karma for killing the dog, or something.
One of the messages, the last one in fact, got stuck in limbo. Maxis has that kind of power to keep your messages in limbo for a few hours. And coincidentally, that last message was rather...um...romantically inclined. So being stuck in SMS Limbo, my girlfriend thought I stopped messaging her or something. Until suddenly, something happened and the message unstuck itself. And who had to read the romantically inclined message but my girlfriend's FATHER.
Of all the people who could have read the message, her DAD had to read it. As my friend would put it, it was seriously 'THROW FACE'. And I had a great 'HOLY SH*T' moment when she messaged me and told me all about it.
My face, gone. My maruah, gone.
All because of stupid Maxis and their SMS limbo!

The cherry on the top of my horrible day was being mauled by horror durians. So I take it that the dog, who was somewhere in doggy heaven or hell, really hated me a lot. So he sent a bunch of durians to murder me. Fortunately, the dog wasn't very bright. Everyone knows that the percentage of deaths caused by durians are like 0.00001%. And that 0.00001% is usually a deranged wife who decided that murdering her husband by exotic means was the new in-thing.
Unfortunately, the dog had chosen a group of durian assassins who could really do the job. I suspect the dog paid my mom a visit and collaborated with her to chose the perfect durian assassins.
And what did these dangerous durians do? Maul me on the leg because that was all they could reach. I begin to rue accidentally killing that dog.

So I have come to the end of my sad and evil day. And apparently, I'm still sane. So I guess I'll head to the soda for a for a kitchen. I mean, head to the toilet for a drink. I mean, head to the bedroom to pee.

I'm hallucinating!!!! WHOEOEOWOWOWO! HAHAHAHAHAHJAJAJAJAJAGAGAGAGAG!
I SEE DOGS! RAWR!

Due to unforseen circumstances and the fact that the writer of this post is huddled in a fetal position, barking feebly, trying to chase a tail that he seems to have suddenly sprouted and is foaming at his mouth, we would like to help him end the post.

Cheerios.

P.S: We would also like to end his life like he wishes us to in the above note. Woof!

Me vs. Bolt. The final showdown

I had this really weird dream yesterday night. Or maybe it's not a dream and it really came true. Remember to check the newspapers tomorrow for the headline:

'Malaysian teen defeats reigning 100m world record holder Bolt with record time.' - The Star

'Teen outBOLTs Usain.' - The Independent

'Bolted away!' - The Daily Mirror

'A Bolt from the blue.' - Reuters

Or if you really don't care, the headline could just be shortened to,

'HOLY *#$@!' -various magazines around the world

Yes, I totally (dreamt here is interchangeable with know) that I thrashed Bolt in a 100m sprint race. And I remember so clearly that my time was 9.38s. That's almost 0.20s faster than the previous world record that Bolt had set. If you want to know how fast that is, imagine this.

Mach 3 vs Turtle. Speed of sound vs speed of a 1862 Toyota Camry.(if it existed) Speed of Winnie the Pooh destroying a pot of honey.

Not to be blowing my own trumpet of course. I was already waiting at the finish line, posing for the cameras when Bolt FINALLY crossed the line. They must have taken my picture in every conceivable angle before Bolt finally lumbered over the line. He was about to reel off in delight at his win before he noticed me standing there. Over the line. Ahead of him. And it was as though he was, and pardon the pun, struck by a lightning bolt. And like the brilliant and sportsmanlike sportsman that I was, I gave Bolt a consolatory hug and pinched him on the arm for good measure.

'This is not a dream, Bolt...because this is your freaking NIGHTMARE!' Cue: *insane maniacal laughter*

But here's the part where my dream suddenly sharpened. I remember posing in front of the huge timeboard with my new World Record time there. 9.38s in all their pixellated glory. And I had this really cocky face put on


Pictured: Cocky face

while Bolt was sulking behind.

Somewhere. It didn't really matter, because he was OLD NEWS. And I was holding this photograph in my hands. There I(me with my cocky face) was, and there he(Bolt with his sulking face) was. And there it(the new world record) was!

And then I felt a sharp pain in my stomach, so I was forced to wake up and go to the toilet.

Darn pizza.

Cheerios.